


Loss

by VishantiBondage



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, Nightmares, No pairings - Freeform, There is no Happy Ending Here, distraught rage, only sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 00:09:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14964870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VishantiBondage/pseuds/VishantiBondage
Summary: It's been years, but Draven still can't stop the memories that haunt him in his sleep.





	Loss

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic, I wrote this as a drabble back in 2014. But hey, I figured someone might get a small kick outta it.

It was happening again.  _It was happening again._

Since childhood Draven had often found himself unable to sleep at night, horrifying images of blood, smoke and fire haunting his mind’s eye as the echoed screams and shouts of his parents played over and over in a morbid, sickening loop that threatened to drive away what sanity the Executioner still clung to. 

Tonight was no different. 

Draven tossed and turned in his sleep, nails clawing at sheets, tremors wracking his body, until he  _just couldn’t take it any more._  

The Noxian jerked upright, hands coming to his hair and clenching in sweat-drenched brown locks, wide, wild eyes staring in terror at absolutely nothing and chest heaving as he struggled to draw in breath past his raw throat. 

Panic rose, as did the wave of nausea, and sharp nails scratched at his scalp as Draven tried in vain to get a grip on reality. On something. Anything. It seemed impossible. 

Until he felt something. Something he never expected to feel these days and yet often did, and every time it had his heart leap into his throat. 

The sensation of arms around him soothed him, calming the pounding of his heart. He melted back into the touch even, into that warmth, closing his eyes and fighting to regain control of himself as that voice worked to reassure him that it was a dream, only a dream; those events were long past, and he had nothing to fear any more. Not while they were there. 

It worked, for a moment. Everything calmed, the weight lifting from his chest.

Then all too suddenly the sensation of those arms vanished, the quiet voice he could have sworn had sounded right next to him with it, and Draven’s eyes snapped open once more.

_“…Dar…”_

A splash of warm wetness hit his thigh, and the Executioner realised he was crying. The tears came thick and fast after that, the thud of his heart and the struggle to breathe returning as everything hit him at once; 

_He was alone. Darius had never been here._

How could he have been? 

Darius was dead. He’d been dead for years… and Draven had lost the most important person in his life the moment his brother’s life had been snuffed out. 

Hands trembled harder than ever, teeth sunk into his lower lip until it split and blood joined the tears dripping to the sheets. Then Draven snapped; nails tearing the sheets they’d grasped, mouth opening to issue a wordless howl of despair that seemed to last an age.

The Executioner’s fist met the bedside table, splintering wood and sending it crashing to the floor. The headboard was next, the distraught Noxian rending a hole where there were already dents and scratches that belayed his suffering. 

…and when he could no longer exert his anguish through violence or formless screams, Draven curled up in the tattered remnants of the bloody, tear stained sheets, blank eyes staring lifelessly at the wall opposite. 

_Alone. All alone, this time. No one here to look out for him, to care for him. Not now, not ever again._


End file.
